


A Life Fully Lived

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Symbiont Circle [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Communication, Dom Obi-Wan, F/M, Gen, Masochist Padmé, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Other, Sadist Satine, Vanilla Anakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 05:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15212084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Communications are had.  Anakin starts listening. Satine keeps a level head for all of them.





	A Life Fully Lived

 

While Ahsoka was busy being present with Yoda when Padmé put in her request for a Jedi escort, Satine was returning to her apartment one last time before heading to the spaceport.

She stepped into her darkened home and knew  _something_ was off.

She triggered the lights and slowly turned around.

She found Anakin Skywalker sitting in one of her chairs, glaring at her.

“Knight Skywalker,” she said, tone cool, as if discovering him lying in wait was a normal occurrence.

Her lack of fear or shock seemed to put him out. The expectation in his eyes turned to anger. “Kryze. Or should I call you  _Domme_ ?”  
“I am a Domme. I am not  _your_ Domme.”

Anakin scoffed. “Listen to you. When did you start fripping my wife?”

“She was nineteen. Five years ago. Long before you came into the picture, my Dear, and I have never sexually touched Padmé Amidala, or she, myself.”  
“You just  _hurt_ her.”

Satine lifted her chin, gaze never once leaving his. “I do not. Physical pain is not necessary for my kink; just the appearance of it. She enjoys pretending to be in pain; I enjoy watching her.”

“What  _happened_ to her that she would  _enjoy pain?_ ”

“She doesn't. But Anakin, there are those who do, and they deserve respect just like anyone else.”

His lip curled. “And  _you,_ Duchess. A pacifist who enjoys seeing others in pain.”

“No, I enjoy the appearance of pain. I think if you ask Obi-Wan, you will discover there is a difference. I have never enjoyed watching him actually suffer. I have tended his wounds, saved his life, and never once found a place of euphoria in the effort. I care about people, Anakin. I do not desire them harm.”

“How can you be a  _sadist_ and  _not_ desire them harm?”

“I desire symbiosis, Anakin.”  
“You're a parasite.”

“I provide an interaction Padmé craves. She does the same for me. I make sure she is safe and well and happy; she does the same for me. We spend time outside of scenes, visiting museums, going out to lunch, helping one another with politics. If what we craved was shopping, you would see us as friends, not a threat.”

“Yeah? Well  _friendship_ doesn't satisfy a deep longing in the soul.”

Satine's eyebrow flicked up. “Have you been so unfortunate in your friendships? Would you be completely happy if you had Padmé in your life, and  _no_ one else? Human beings are social creatures, Anakin. We long for a pack. Padmé needs you. Needing me does not take away that.”

“I should be  _enough_ for her,” Anakin growled.

Satine gave a nod. “Darling, she hasn't come to any of us for sex. Obi-Wan does not  _engage_ in sexual kink.”

“Kink  _is_ weird sex,” Anakin asserted.

“Not always. There are many asexuals in our ranks.”

Anakin's eyes widened. “He's  _asexual_ ?”

“Anakin, that is a question you should ask  _him._ ”  
“Are you kidding?” he choked. “He's— Not-Fripping my wife.”  
Satine gave a small nod. “Anakin, do you think Padmé feels threatened by your relationship with Obi-Wan? After all, you grew up in his care, you're with him all the time, you're sent on life-and-death missions without her presence— _prime_ romance fodder. He's desperately important to you. Why do you think she's not worried?”

“Because he's already fallen for  _her_ ?”

“No,” Satine replied, tone gentle. “Because she recognizes there are different kinds of love. That once you find a romantic one, you must not forsake all others. She knows what you feel for Obi-Wan, though vital and necessary, is not romantic. Padmé is not romantically or sexually attracted to myself, or to Obi-Wan. The attractions we share are different. Padmé  _is_ romantically and sexually drawn to you, Anakin Skywalker. And if you're concerned that might change, simply be aware that I am romantically tied to Obi-Wan, and he to me. It hasn't changed after seventeen years of near-constant separation, and I doubt it's going to change soon.”

Anakin stared at her, aghast. “ _Seventeen_ ?” he echoed.

Satine moved to sit on the couch opposite him. “Anakin, I am in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.”  
He couldn't seem to find words, his confusion playing cruel across his face.

“Padmé is distraught that you would think she wants to leave you. And while I think she was wrong to not tell you  _before_ you married, I have heard her reason  _why._ ”  
He didn't speak.

“She was worried you would feel inadequate. She wanted to avoid that at all costs, because she loves you, Anakin. She is  _happy_ with you and she wants  _you_ to be just as happy. I know the traditions of Tatooine are very black and white, one man and one woman for life, and they are expected to be both romantically and sexually involved, and Darling, you  _have_ that.”

His expression was just a little less hostile now, the fear and misery clear in his eyes.

“It seems... but you gain  _pleasure_ from...  _what you do._ ”

“Do the two of you not gain some form of satisfaction from simple hugs? Does sleeping side-by-side when too bone tired for anything else not have a satisfaction all its own? Yes. I gain a chemical dump from our scenes, and she does too. But so do you when you watch a terrifying holovid, or podrace, or run a marathon.”

“You don't see us as competition.”

“I want Padmé Amidala happy and healthy. You want the same thing. As far as I can see it, that makes us allies.”  
“I don't... this deviant stuff isn't... I don't get it, Duchess.”  
Satine gave a nod. “That's alright. The vast majority of the population are what we call Vanillas. We've kept to the shadows for a very long time, because there is still a stigma against such relationships. It's only in recent decades that polyamory has become anything other than a shameful secret, and long ago, men who loved men were once persecuted. There are few fighting for us, Anakin. We are still stereotyped and hounded by certain laws that are vague enough that the outcome could rest solely on what the judge ate for breakfast. I have hope that one day we will be able to hold our heads up in the light, that the mystery and fear surrounding us will ease, and that those who feel ashamed for who they are will no longer need to feel disgust from their loved ones.”

Anakin held very still, and for a long moment silence hung thick and heavy. When he at last spoke, his voice was but a whisper. “Snips likes women.”  
Satine waited in patience.

“Didn't happen much on Tatooine. Or if it did, a nine-year-old didn't know. But... Obi-Wan really tried to show me it was normal, back when I first got here. I guess I still don't see how a person could be  _in love_ with more than one person at a time, but I can also get that it's not my place to decide if such a thing is possible or not, just because I've never felt it or known anyone who has. I mean. Whenever a girl said she loved two men on Tatooine, she was told she had to  _choose_ and that she was stringing them along.”

Satine watched him, a spark of hope in her heart. He was communicating _. Keep talking, Obi-Wan's Knight, just keep talking._

“You don't actually like  _hurting_ people?”

“I do not maliciously desire to inflict pain on people who do not desire it.”

Anakin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah. I've never met a Sadist who wasn't evil.”

“I actually expect you have, but they've been in hiding. It's not easy, to have people look at you in fear and loathing for the way you were born.”  
“Have you tried...  _not_ liking pain?”

“Have you tried  _not_ being attracted to Padmé?”  
Anakin's eyes widened. “Oh.”

“You don't ask Ahsoka if she's  _tried_ being attracted to males, because there is nothing wrong with what she feels. Some day, our attractions will be respected, but I expect it to be a long fight. After all, it took a very long time before the psychologists of the day stopped seeing asexuality as a disorder that needed to be  _fixed._ And before that, homosexuality was seen as an illness as well.”

“So doctors today  _do_ see this as...  _wrong_ ?”

“Not all.”

“But... isn't it  _dangerous_ ? Isn't Padmé likely to get  _actually_ hurt hanging out with these people?  _I like to cause pain_ isn't exactly a trust-inspiring opener.”

Satine leaned forward. “There are abusers everywhere, Anakin. There are countless Vanilla men who have harmed or killed women and continue to do so, with weapons, with their fists, with their words— and there are kinksters who are abusers as well. But being a kinkster is not a sign of being an abuser, any more than being a Vanilla is a sign of being an abuser. There are self-centered, harmful individuals in any walk of life, and the way to steer clear of those in our subculture is the same as any other: common sense, moving slowly, and trusting your gut. Padmé had years of training in how to be safe in  _any_ situation before she ever stepped foot into a dungeon.”

Anakin choked a laugh. “I was shocked when I saw you people  _actually_ use that word.”  
“There is a flare for the dramatic I don't think will ever be fully left behind,” Satine chuckled. “Or the smoke and mirrors.”

Anakin's smile faded, slow and grim. He leaned back in his chair, as if hoping the shadows would claim him again. He averted his face, rubbed his fingernail against the arm of the chair, and muttered, voice challenging, “And how about the idolization of slavery?”

“Now you speak of Obi-Wan?”  
“How can he?” Anakin asked in a strangled whisper. “When I was in that guy's head, I saw what Obi-Wan has done to people. Made them lick his boots... he's put chains on them, made them kneel by his side.”

Broken, desperate eyes lifted to Satine's face. “Do you have a good explanation for  _that_ ? After what's happened to  _me_ ? After my mom...  _died_ ?” Tears blurred Anakin's eyes.

“Obi-Wan hates slavery,” Satine murmured. “Just as I stand against violence of any kind.”

Anakin's fist clenched, but not in anger. “You said you think the  _art_ of pain and death is beautiful, not pain and death itself. But there is  _no_ poetry in being a slave.  _None._ ”

“That is true, of real slavery. What individuals who seek Obi-Wan out are looking for is not slavery, however. They want to feel no longer in control. They want to give that control into the hands of someone trustworthy, someone who will allow them to be something completely impossible for a few moments, in a safe way. I have never met an individual who actually desired to be sold in the sense that you were, Anakin. And those who condone actual slavery, whether they be within the kink community or outside of it, should revisit their priorities.”

“It's... it's still... the thought of Padmé, after seeing what it's done to  _me,_ letting someone else chain her... for  _fun..._ ”

Satine shook her head. “There is no list of activities to check off, Anakin. Your wife has no interest in that form of kink, and Obi-Wan has never offered it to her. Padmé wants to be pampered, gently commanded, and bewailed. I am sorry,  _truly_ sorry that you were not offered the truth before it reached this point, but watch me in the Force as I say this, Anakin. The strain in your relationship with Obi-Wan is breaking his heart. Padmé's fear of losing you is terrible. I care deeply about both of these people, and I'm watching them be torn apart by this.”  
Anakin looked down and refused to look back up.

“All I ask is that you seek them out, one at a time, and listen to them. Really listen to what they have to say, and then share with them— quietly— how it makes you feel. They were afraid to entrust this information to you, because they were afraid you would hate them, and would be deaf to their love for you. Please. Let them speak, and then speak to them in return.”

Anakin shook his head. “You  _tell_ people important things.”

“Have you told Obi-Wan that you've murdered before?”

His stood up, his lips twisted in a snarl, in his eyes,  _rage—_

 

* * *

 

How did she know? How did she  _know—_ ?  
“I am  _no murderer,_ ” Anakin hissed.

Satine looked up at him, unmoved.

Why wasn't she afraid? Even Padmé's heart began to thunder when he was angry, even if she kept it from her face—

“I am Mandalorian,” she said simply. “I know the signs. Before you burn them at the stake for not being fully honest with you, look close into your soul and discover if you are not guilty of the same failing. Perhaps, instead of fault-finding, a change for the better can be organized for all parties concerned.”  
Anakin's tongue froze.

It—

In his mind, he could see two conversations.

Yelling at Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan pleading, Anakin storming away, refusing to ever speak to him again.

Or...

_“I'm sorry.”_

_“What? Anakin,_ no,  _you are not the one who needs to explain. You have every right to be worried and feel betrayed.”_

_“Do I? Do you want to take Padmé from me?”_

_“Force, no, Anakin. All I want is for you to be happy.”  
_ Was the second conversation  _possible_ ?

Was it worth swallowing his pride enough to find out—? A life without Obi-Wan, without Padmé, the thought  _hurt,_ almost  _physically._ So much of what made his life  _good_ would be gone...

But...

There was a more immediate threat.

“What is it you think I did?” Anakin rasped.

Disappointment touched Satine's face. “Please, Anakin. This is your secret to tell. Your burden. It was not for me to speak of it to Obi-Wan, I only first met you a matter of weeks ago.”

“But—”

“I think Padmé made a mistake in not confiding in you about her fantasies before you swore yourselves to one another. I also think it is a mistake that you have refused honesty to Obi-Wan, the man you claim to be your best friend.”

“He— he does not know what it is to look an unarmed civilian in the eye and _choose—_ he would hate me, Satine.”  
She looked him in the eye unflinching, but he could see compassion in her own. “A fear not akin to the one Obi-Wan has endured? Fear you would hate him for holding the chain around a willing companion's throat?”  
_Dear Force, she's right._

 

* * *

 

Anakin Skywalker left without another word.

He fled Satine's apartment and into the night.

Satine moved first to her holocomm.

“Obi-Wan, Anakin paid me a visit.”

A distraught cry escaped the knight of her heart, his fear for her clear.

“I am unharmed; he did not lay a finger on me.”

Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged as he dragged in a ragged breath. Something that sounded like a prayer of gratitude mumbled from his lips.

“He was no longer angry when he left; but I do not know how he currently sees the world. If he comes to you, please try to meet him halfway.”

Obi-Wan gave a pained nod. “Of course, Satine.”

“Not  _of course._ If he comes storming in there and leads with something unfortunate, I need you to keep a level head and endure it for the sake of turning the conversation to something  _constructive,_ do you hear me, Obi-Wan? You have a chance to salvage this, if you keep it together.”

“I will fight for us, Satine.”

“Good. Just keep in mind that this form of fighting will work best by  _listening._ You to him, he to you. I'm going to call Padmé now, he may go there first.”  
“Be safe,” he whispered in farewell.

She gave him a sad smile. “Darling, you're going to be alright.”  
“We'll see.”  
“I believe it even when you can't.”

“It's all that gives me hope.” The words were so quiet Satine suspected she hadn't been meant to hear them. Her heart ached for him even as she contacted the Senator.

It might be a long night.

 

* * *

 

Padmé had waited long into the night for Anakin to come home, to confront her. Either in fear, or with anger, she was prepared to wade through either in order to reach his heart.

He never showed.

Eventually she fell asleep on the couch, still waiting.

 

* * *

 

The next day was a flurry of arranging for the upcoming trip to Taris and Mandalore. The reason for it might have everything to do with her marriage, but Padmé intended to make full use of the journey for the Republic's needs as well. There was no reason she couldn't multitask.

The next time she saw Anakin, he was his quiet, professional self as he welcomed Senator Chuchi aboard their transport. She could read nothing in his eyes as he gave her a grave, almost cold, bow.

Ahsoka met her with a worried, hopeful smile, and escorted Riyo into other parts of the ship as the clone pilots guided the craft through Coruscant's atmosphere and into space.

Padmé stood in the empty entryway and peered up into the set mask of Anakin's face. “How are you?” she asked, hoping desperately she wouldn't make a misstep.

“Unconvinced by the supposed innocence of the spontaneity of this move. Though I am surprised you entangled Chuchi and Taris into it.”

Padmé felt the blush stain her cheeks as he looked knowingly down into her soul. “I would go to greater lengths than that to try to reach you again.”

“I'm aware.” Anakin's gaze fell away from her face and he crossed his arms, the distance of the gesture not quite blocking out the pensive line between his brows. “I'm also aware I'm not the only person in your life.”

Padmé searched his face, her heart trembling. “Do you really want to be? Do you want to eliminate everything in my life except for you?”

It took him too long to answer. She'd expected an insulted and immediate  _no._

“I don't like it,” Anakin murmured. “I've seen it done, Padmé. Where a predator singles out their prey, woos them, draws them in, then cuts them off from everyone except himself. I've rescued the trapped. Seen some who end up so damaged they've lost the will to run, and instead, flee straight back into his arms.”

_I swear that's not what Satine and Obi-Wan are doing._

But she waited to see if he had more to say.  _Let him finish before I tell him he's wrong._

He needed to feel  _heard_ or this was never going to work.

“I don't want to be that guy.”

Padmé felt her jaw drop. “You're  _not,_ ” she protested. “Anakin, you're  _nothing_ like that. You haven't tried to isolate me from my family or friends.”

“Really? Because apparently it's only alright to have friends that aren't  _too_ important to your happiness.”

“Anakin, I swear to you, you do not need to feel threatened by Satine or Obi-Wan.”

He slowly turned his gaze back to her eyes, looking miserable. “I know now. But it's not easing the...  _jealousy._ It's eating me up, Padmé. I'm so  _angry,_ and I think I look like  _those guys._ ”

“ _'Those guys'_ don't see that the way they treat the people they claim to love is harmful and cruel.”

“What good is seeing it if I can't free myself of  _this_ ? It makes me feel sick, Padmé, the thought of sharing you with anyone.”  
Padmé nodded, reaching out to hesitantly touch his clenched forearm. “Growing up, you had very little you could say was  _your own,_ and only yours.”

“You think I can't let this go because you're my  _belonging_ ?” he growled.

She squeezed his arm. “Sometimes it feels like I'm a possession. Not a person.”

His eyes went wide, horror flooding them.

“Anakin, I don't want to leave you. My love is yours. My heart doesn't have limited room. You are the love of my life, and I love you with  _all my heart,_ and I also love my parents. My sister. My nieces. Ahsoka. Obi-Wan. Satine.”  
“The last two are different relationships. They're... intimate.”

“There's an intimacy between me and my sister too, Anakin. We talk about things I don't talk about with anyone else. She is my oldest friend, and we've shared our growing up years together. There are... many different kinds of relationships, Anakin. It's not quite as simple as  _family, lover, just a friend._ The idea that only the one you're having sex with is vitally important is... it's not how everyone is built, Anakin, and a lot of it has to do with the way children are raised. What I need you to know is that  _I love you._ I want to spend my life with you. I want you, and  _only_ you to make love to me, and you, and  _only_ you am I in love with. And I am desperately in love with you.”  _Is it enough? Please let that be enough, because I cannot abandon myself for you. I cannot become like those poor victims for you._

_I need to be me._

And then Anakin was holding her close, his silent tears dampening her hair.

“Don't leave me,” he begged.

She clung to him, thankful,  _so thankful—_ “I won't,” she choked. “I need you to trust me:  _I won't leave you._ ”

 

 


End file.
